With the instinct of the multitude, these people were only concerned with the aggressor, letting the one who was fleeing go free.

Ferragut could not keep his wrath bottled up on that account.

He had to reveal his secret.
"He is a spy!...

A _Boche_ spy!..." He said this in a dull, disjointed voice and never did his word of command obtain such a noisy echo.
"A spy!..." The cry made men rise up as though vomited forth by the earth; from mouth to mouth it leaped, repeating itself incessantly, penetrating through the docks and the boats, vibrating even beyond the reach of the eye, permeating everywhere with the confusion and rapidity of sound waves.

"A spy!..." Men came running with redoubled agility; the stevedores were abandoning their loads in order to join the pursuit; people were leaping from the steamers in order to unite in the human hunt.
The author of the noisy alarm, he who had given the cry, saw himself outdistanced and ignored by the pursuing streams of people which he had just called forth.